Be Rude but Love Me | ✔

CHAPTER 43

My lips crash against his in anger at first, as I am desperate to convey words that I can't say. He stays immobile a moment, not reacting, his lips firmly closed. Then they open. His arms reach up to snake around my waist as he pulls me deeper in, as if wanting to melt our bodies together, to lose himself in me. My hands reach the hair at his nape and I don't hesitate to dive into their silkiness, gripping and tugging.

Our mouths move against one another, our lips molding one another's. His are soft and full, capturing my own in hungry yet soft movements as he opens and closes on them again. My hands keep treading their way into his hair. More, I want more.

As if reading my thoughts, his hands slide under my butt and he lifts me up. I don't wait to wrap my legs around his waist, pressing into him further. He walks us to the counter and puts me down, his mouth never leaving mine. He comes closer into my legs, and I feel his hands reach up. He tugs my hair, his mouth trailing from my own and onto my neck.

Featherlike kisses are pressed to my skin, causing me to shiver and to moan softly. My eyes remain closed as I enjoy this pure feeling of ecstasy, loving his touch.

"Tracy," he whispers huskily into my ears.

He continues down my neck, always tugging on my hair, my head falling back further. His mouth hovers over my collarbone, his lips barely brushing before he plants a gentle kiss there. The loose tank top I'm wearing does nothing to hide my shoulder from him and soon, his mouth reaches there too. All the while, I am on cloud nine, my head fuzzy, my thoughts an incoherent mess.

His lips trail back from my shoulder to my collarbone to the base of my neck, to my neck itself, then to my jaw, and finally – finally­ – back to my lips. And we lose ourselves in one another again, barely stopping, barely breathing, barely acknowledging anything but us. There. Right now. In this moment.

When we both get too breathless to continue – because honestly, that's the only reason why we would stop – he rests his forehead against mine. I open my eyes but his are still closed. My hands finally leave his hair and come to rest on each side of his face. Only then does he open his eyes.

They're dark with desire, his pupils have dilated and the way he's staring at me leaves no room for misunderstanding. He wants me. In this moment, I feel stupid for doubting him, for doubting he wanted this as much as I want this.

My eyes flick to his swollen lips, probably a mirror of my own, a testimony to the passion we just shared. I smile at him, cradling his face in mine. "Hey, you."

He smiles back, his cheeks creasing with those two adorable dimples I love. "Hey," he says back.

For a moment, we just stay like that, looking at each other, engraving each other's features in our minds, to never forget. And unexpectedly, he takes a step back, retreating, hiding his face from me. "Things are supposed to change now?"

I hate the sarcasm in his voice. And I realize that he is withdrawing himself, building those walls up again. I will not have it. I will not let him.

I jump off the counter and come to plant myself right before him. "No," I say more forcefully than I intend to. "Don't shut me out now."

He gazes at me for a moment before shaking his head. "You should go, Graham."

He's calling me Graham. He's telling me to go. Yes, he's shutting me out again.

I take his face into my hands again. "You are not worthless, you are not a nobody. Do you hear me?" His eyes are resigned, vacant. "Do you hear me?" I say more vehemently, gripping his face tighter.